


Cecil, Carlos: Adopt Twins.

by orphan_account



Series: Welcome Home [1]
Category: Homestuck, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: All the Queer Cake, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Angst and Romance, Dark Comedy, Demon Deals, Depression, F/F, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Grimdark, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Night Vale Community Radio, Sexual Content, The Weather (Welcome to Night Vale), Tons of cussing., Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Welcome to Homestuck: The Opera(eventual)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You were THIRTEEN years old.</p><p>You enjoy THE DESERT SAND BRUSHING AGAINST YOUR FACE AS IF SAND WERE IRONY INCARNATE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ##  _When the desert leaves you a child, please don't forget its twin._

# Greetings and Welcome to Night Vale.

 

 

#### Be: Cecil Baldwin.

Psheesh, you can't be Cecil Baldwin right now, these are dark times.

#### Be: Dave Strider.

Your name is DAVE STRIDER. You _were_ THIRTEEN years old.

You enjoy THE DESERT SAND BRUSHING AGAINST YOUR FACE AS IF SAND WERE IRONY INCARNATE. You miss your BEST FRIEND, but you CAN'T REALLY REMEMBER your CHILDHOOD. You were RECENTLY ADOPTED by CECIL BALDWIN. You were ALSO ADOPTED by CARLOS THE SCIENTIST, but you aren't allowed to SAY THAT because THE SYSTEM and PEACHY-COLOURED, CLUSTERFUCKING, BIAS. Your MEMORY is a MESSY SPIRAL flashing back and forth across TIME. You can't possibly know that. You blame it on KINKY DREAMS. A lot of people YOU MISS don't exist yet, including YOUR BROTHERS. You feel LONELY and SCARED.

What will you do?

 **Dave:** Break a window.

You break a motherfucking window.

_Hell. Fucking. Yes._

 

* * *

#### Enter: Rose Lalonde

 

Oh for the dubious man-eater: Rose is unconscious.

####  **Wake Up Rose.**

**Rose:** _Refuse_ to wake up in the dog park.

 **Rose:** Remember the past in the dog park.

 **Rose:** _Refuse_ to remember the past in the dog park.

 

####  **Rose, Your mother is dead, submit to memory:**

 

You refused to leave the house (white; pink; books with words the length of your hair; lying on the floor; the sweet sick smell of liquor: your heart resting above your eyes, your voice spinning.)

You remember the smell to ignore the sound of hand, thigh, head, hitting floorboard.

 _When you didn't leave,_ they dragged you to the vehicle.

 _When they didn't leave,_ you practised the action called ‘kicking and screaming.’

 _When they didn't leave,_ you are made to understand their substantial belief in their actions, as: RIGHTEOUS, PARENTAL, SAVIOUR.

Without asking your opinion, they infer: it is for the best; it is for your own good; your mother is very unwell. _Your mother is dead._

You understand their theory; it relates both to your present circumstances and their chosen job profession. You understand the fault is beyond them, even as you start to curse the very molecules and former objects that formed and atomised to become their blood particles.

For the sake of a more pleasant universe, YOU PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

You react COLD and COMPOSED.

You react like YOURSELF. 

 ** _A lady always_ ,** _you spit deep_ at the pink-lipped social worker trying to shoosh you.

 

Your name is ROSE LALONDE. You were taken from your MOTHER. Your mother is now DEAD.  This is an UNCONSCIOUS MEMORY. The actions that brought you here are NOT; REPERCUSSIONS will continue to be FELT. You enjoy SUMMONING DEAD PEOPLE, but your spells are either PERFECT or you UNDERESTIMATE the COST. You LOST THREE YEARS; a boy called ‘DAVE’ LOST THREE YEARS; your GIRLFRIEND is a DEMON; SHE wasn't the one you were trying to bring BACK. You are STILL UNCONSCIOUSNESS ON THE GROUND with DANA CARDINAL. 

What will you do?

 

####  _Break and remake_

####  _everything._

 

* * *

#### Enter Cecil:

Carlos, Carlos, look it’s Dave! Coming out from that barbed wire fence! He's not in his hoodie, but I'm sure it's him!

Perfect Dave, now don't you worry, Carlos, the lovely Carlos, and I, are right here! Carlos deduced it! He followed your trail to the creepy back road using SCIENCE and EVIDENCE! But we left all the lights on at the house in case, even the ones down in your summoning circle, and you know how often I nag at you about that! While I'll admit that it's feasibly, and morally, sound for an inanimate pile of money to define itself as a person, I am not made of money, and those lights cost buckets of blood to run!

Oh Dave, please just come home. We will fill all of the forms out later, don't you worry about that. What is a little secret - not so secret - service, compared to family, right? Oh Dave, is that you? I knew you'd come back!

You won't believe how much we have missed you! I know it was only a few hours, but you know how dads' are. It's scary being a parent!

_'Wait, Cecil! -'_

 I just wanted you to know, I'm not disappointed or angry; I was scared, but just having you back is enough. We can talk about appropriate boundaries later, Dave, now you come here-

_'Cecil no! IT'S NOT,'_

 I'm so glad to have our little family back together. You know Dave, you and Carlos, I could never hope for a better family, and when Dana comes back too-

_'CECIL LISTEN TO ME!'_

Come on over here Dave, and then lets go to

## The Weather

* * *

 

WR1T1NG ON TH3 W4LLS 1S B3ST: th3 b3st fr13nd, th3 b3st 1nst1g4tor, pol1cy 3nforc3r, l3g4l r3pr3s3nt4t1v3, _for JUST1C3  
_

1 just w4nt to s1ng my l1ttl3 h34rt out, _for JUST1C3 >:]  
_

1 just w4nt to wr1t3 you lov3 songs 1n th3 m4rg1ns of your n4p3 and b4ck, w1th st1cky r41nbow blood, _for JUST1C3 >:]  
_

####  _ YOU: _

W3 w4k3 up 1n th3 d3s3rt m3 just st4nd1ng, st4r1ng up, th3 sky abov3, my 3y3s 4 bl33d1ng m4ss of vo1d 4nd, 4BS3NC3

####  _ YOU: _

W3 w4k3 up 1n th3 d3s3rt you just ly1ng th3r3, w1thout your 4rm, your 3y3 4 swoll3n m4ss l1k3, f33d-1ng 4 worm f4rm:

_ For JUST1C3, or m4yb3 R3V3NG3, or m4yb3 b3c4us3 you'r3 4 B1TCH, _ just k1dd1ng - not k1dd1ng r34lly -  _ for JUST1C3  _

SO NOW _WH3R3_

_ DO W3 GO? _

FROM H3R3

_ 1'm lost. 1'm 4lon3.  _ 1'm h3r3.

1t's so bl4ck. 4nd cold. 4 _nd f1ll3d. W1th no1s3s._

_ FOR JUST1C3 _

1 just w4nt to b3 p3rform1ng for _Just1c3, for Just1c3, for Just-_

1'm so sc4r3d. 1 don't know. Wh3r3 1 4m. 4ny mor3.

_ Just1c3. _

_ Just1c3... >:[  
_

 

 

* * *

 

 **Oh Night Vale** , what a night in our city of angels that bear the burden of groceries and whittled down stars. I, for one, had to sacrifice a lot to be with you now; I want to do a late night shout-out to all those with hearts keeping it real _and_ keeping their families together.

On a personal note I will be thanking, _of course_ , the impeccable Carlos (oh that hair: even sodden and fruzzled), and my newly re-found son (with the added bonus of several years of premature wisdom and a newfound friend!)

You know _you_ are my beating heart dear Night Vale, _and I am your ever screeching voice_ , but I have to confess: I am currently feasting in the studio with portabellas, my family and new friend; it is so neat!

We just had to have our picnic here. They are too cute. And Dave...what with that whole three years vanished time, while for us it has been only been a few hours; Carlos is almighty curious, but I'm just so excited to see Dave growing into his dad's hair!

Anyway dear listeners, keep sending in your 'awws,' we can feel them breathing down the walls and leaving smiles on our skin. I agree! Isn't it the most perfect picture ever?

 _Don't **you**_ agree Steve Carlsberg, you can keep your 'awws' to yourself, just like your shack, _lonely huh_ , with nothing but the radio for company.

Anyway! I hope the rest of you are keeping safe, it's been a night of earthshattering events that is for sure.

Here in Night Vale the walls, your bones and the wind sometimes whisper things you want; things you want to forget; things you are trying to run away from. _Don't Forget._ There is still time. If I can make it to my son and come back - only bruised, and with my tentacles covered in somebody else's body parts - then you can too. Keep running: faster, faster, and faster. _Don't stop._ There is still time.

Coming up next, stay tuned to hear your neighbours thumping against the wall that separates your rooms.

It could be a party; it could be enthusiastic consent; _it could be a sign that you should leave._

Right now. Pack your things and go. You need to be at the airport. She is waiting for you. She has two tickets to Brazil. It is going to be okay. Remember, you are loved, valued and always will be. _She forgives you._ You are worth this. You are worth everything; never forget that. You hop on the plane. Every inch of you is smiling. The sun goes down and the stars come up. They dim the lights in the cabin for take off. 

Goodnight Night Vale,

## Goodnight.

 

* * *

 

 **Welcome To Night Vale** is a production of Commonplace Books, it is written by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor and produced by Joseph Fink. I am not Joseph Fink, _but I would like to be._ Send spells, dismembered gifts or persons, in the comment section. Send them quick or else I might do something drastic. Remember: _not even Love can live forever._

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. Characters included in this episode are: Cecil Baldwin, Dana Cardinal, Carlos the Scientist, and some motley children stolen from Andrew Hussies webcomic **Homestuck.**  
  
This episode's weather was called _'A Love Song For Vriska,'_ by Terezi Pyrope, her whereabouts are currently unknown, if you have any information please contact the Sheriff's secret police. Actually don't worry: they are watching you.

Alternatively, Comments? Questions? Feedback? Contact us here in the comment section or the original creators at: [Welcome To Night Vale](http://commonplacebooks.com/) or that other webcomic: [Homestuck](http://www.mspaintadventures.com/?viewpage=archive)

Check out both for more information, as well as all sorts of cool stuff you can own, and while you’re there, consider clicking the donate link, that would be cool of you.

PS. If you want to help me out and prevent world destruction in the form of illegal sentences and misuse of the word 'practise,' consider offering Beta services, in return I will shower you with Internet-love and drastic tantrums. ****

**Today’s proverb:** Look at Dave: Your face reflects in his glasses; Look at Dave: You reach a hand across, you want to see his eyes; _You Dissolve;_ Look at Dave; Keep looking at Dave; Keep looking at Dave; Keep looking at Dave;

#### Enter: Karkat.

 

 

 


	2. As if out here in the desert, sex magic was a toll you could pay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blinking, he dreams of gas giants and wonders what Cecil sees when he looks at the stars, as the edges of Cecil's skin flicker and blur against the black night. (Oh.)
> 
> Carlos makes a footnote in his head.
> 
> Cecil runs a hand across his smile: cheeks so wide. Carlos kisses him: clumsy. Cecil kisses back: hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ## Interlude, When Night I'm Yours: Cecil and Carlos. 
> 
> #### Recorded by Hawks and Vultures. 
> 
> **Warning:** Material contains abrupt love, drawn out speechy lovemaking, the approach of an explicit crescendo or at least some vague hints, and an unashamed embrace of queerness, wonder and science. Think Carl Sagan’s: _The Demon Haunted World._

#### Enter Carlos:

Cecil. _Mhmm..._

Cecil..

_Oh._

Away somewhere there is a jewel beetle. It dips each claw into the sand as if testing the heat of a liquid. Each joint

records a temperature. The excavation leaves a tiny groove, a bridge into an expanding surface. (Mhmhm. You swallow air. _)_

His name is Carlos the Scientist, and slowly he crunches his toes into socks and feels the rush of cold around his bare ankles. ( _Oh_. Yes. You feel like clouds)

Idly, Carlos wonders at the large pools of water, shimmering in the evening heat. He read once about open water lowering the base temperature of the environment.

His lips tingle.

Carlos breathes as if it were hot steam, forcing his chest into breathlessnes; breathlessness not helped by an increasing lack of clothes.

Blinking, he dreams of gas giants and wonders what Cecil sees when he looks at the stars, as the edges of Cecil's skin flicker and blur against the black night. ( _Oh_.)

Carlos makes a footnote in his head.

Cecil runs a hand across his smile: cheeks so wide. Carlos kisses him: clumsy. Cecil kisses back: hard.

The desert is dark, lit in the red gold light of faraway stars, houses and the place where the sun went down.

There is an animal out there; it keens with a low and damaged music; Carlos thinks of the stealth of love, how it sneaks into your head and refuses to leave. He decides then, with utter and complete certainty, while all premises remain true that he will not lose Cecil Baldwin: he will give him the love he requires, he would pay the toll forever, or as long as he can.

He knows that people should fear the cold of the desert, as well as its heat, but Carlos isn't cold, not yet. Who knows this heat in his heart, its potential to last forever.

 

* * *

So they were drunk: on exhilaration; on a lost child that came back, but was older, that loved them back with a fierceness previously hidden, subtle and so desperately wanted, back, but a child now an adult, with a lover, and experiences that he couldn't quite talk about.

But it was Night Vale, and Carlos couldn't quite feel surprised.

He could feel intensely curious, angry, terrified, relieved, but things happened here in Night Vale, and the town acted as if they made sense.

He would find out why of course; he would fight back with research and logical analysis, but at least his son was back, safer, maybe even stronger and with allies.

They had warning. They would not leave him unprotected. They would respond with inductive reasoning, ruthless optimism and damn good parenting.

But tonight, they would respect Dave's wishes, amp the wards and protection spells and retire to the hidden valley behind the house.

Carlos had been reluctant to leave, until Cecil grinned, delicious and violent, and said some powers were stronger in the desert, and some eyes never truly closed. Chaos is at times a predicted and unavoidable occurrence, but it seemed, that on the whole, Night Vale protected its own, and no one was unprepared now. Cecil, less despite the scenario and more because of it, was hungry. Desperately, wantingly, clawingly, hungry, as if out here in the desert, sexmagic was a toll you could pay.

* * *

 

(OH FUUUCKC)

All Cecil's limbs were kissing, penetrating, soothing, shooshing Carlos now; in sweet and delicious intensity; in an agony of connected mouths and hearts beating out of sync: it made him gasp, love the very oxygen they shared.

He has to remember to move the blanket to the car.

He has to remember not to fall asleep on the ground beneath the stars.

He has to remember... (The 'i love you' whispered into skin, the suck of tiny kisses on your neck.)

His arms around the only person he has ever been capable to love. (Love: how can you describe this type of love; what properties does it follow; when, how, did it happen; where did it come from; how can you contain, analyse, measure; how can you make sure it doesn't stop, he, Cecil, don't stop.)

Carlos has to remember; their names are Cecil and Carlos, and he loves him. 

He rolls over Carlos' now, straddling one of his thighs and grinning wildly.

Cecil's face is an ecosystem that Carlos would like to document; HE IS SO VOCAL DURING SEX.

It is so hard to concentrate. ( _OH.)_

Carlos loves him moaning, a foolhardy explorer in khaki shorts; Cecil loves Carlos like he's turning his cells into electricity and giving him back lighting. (And the please, please, please.)

( _Come for me now please, I..._ ) 

And he does, in a way that reduces every visual to black and then brings back light in pinprick stars.

Every experience, no matter how similar, is a unique point in time; they create a new world with each deviation, each choice.

(Dreaming) Carlos breathes in and out.

Cecil breathes in and out.

_He loves him like science._


	3. You want to tickle his heart till he giggles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HE JUST LOOKED AT ME, WITH THOSE BIG PERFECT, RESPONSIBLE EYES, AND I JUST WANTED TO SNUGGLE UP AND HAVE A COMPLETELY PLATONIC HUG PILE WITH HIM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Every morning we wake to the promise of sun and the shake of an alarm clock. The banality is tasteless and manufactured; we believe the sun repeats and we will still be here tomorrow._   
>  _But our tomorrows are limited._   
> 

 

 

# Greetings and Welcome to Night Vale.

 

 

 ** _Good Morning Night Vale_ , **so, about a boyfriend who - sparkling with the energy of a thousand God Tier's - kissed me on the mouth as if we both astronauts this morning; as if meteorites were showering in the distance; as if _through our mouths we were transferring souls..._ Yes! It was _myyy_ boyfriend!

 _Oh my captive audience,_ do not worry, we are going to indulge our hearts and collective pulse to _many more_ makeout stories - and what story could be complete without the perfect Carlos - later, but because of job description *reasons* I have to do at least some traffic updates this week, so...

 _Oh Wait,_ it looks like we are getting a call, and listeners! Guess who it is from:

 

#### Dana!

_Oh Cecil, I finally got through! I've had terrible cell reception, not to mention being scared out of my wits._

Dana where are you? When are you coming back? How can I help? We miss you more than anything here.

_Oh Cecil I cannot stress how important it is to hear your voice. How much I've wanted to speak to you, these last weeks, months, years-_

Dana, it can't have been that long? Here, you were only gone a day; I know something is wrong, you being gone is wrong, but you need to tell me where you are, how I can help to bring you back.

 _I miss you too Cecil. I look around and I only see those fake mountains (Should I climb them? Should I start taking samples and attempt to source a geographical location based on soil content? Should I document them for Carlos, but all I have is my phone I guess I could write you poetry to convey the shape of them: mountains like buildings crushed together... No. That isn't right..._ _) fences and distance._

_Oh Cecil. I have to tell you about distance, I don't seem to be ageing here, but distance has a physical weight that seems to catch and hold to my breathing._

_To create a physical action or movement here you must fight against crippling self-doubt and fear of failure (I'm going to let everyone down. I'm going to collapse. If I stay here, away from everyone else, I won't hurt them; I won't get too close to them; I'll keep them safe; I am not safe.)_

_Oh Cecil. But it's okay. We are fighting it. There is a girl here, a young woman. Her name is Rose. She looks so much like Dave: fierce, blistering, unconquerable. It's like watching him grow... She has lost a lot of blood, but is lucid and clear. I know it is at least partly an act of stubborn, so, so stubborn, refusal to die. I need to get her out of here; I need to get her somewhere safe._

Dana...something happened to Dave too (eyes, his, they aren't hollow but almost grasping like he shows all his love across his face, in a way that is completely different to his thirteen year old self.) He came back...older: there new hardness and softness both. At least he came back. Thank everything he came back. Dana, if time is moving differently for you...Should we call in search parties? Should we start to panic? I've already tried to summon you back. You aren't dead Dana, at least we have that to hold our hearts with. I don't know where you are but we are going to help you ( _Please,_ tell me how to help you.) _You_ are going to fight this and get yourself out of there, if we can't...Oh Dana, you and young Rose you are so strong I just know it, especially together. Please, you are going to make it out of this and no family gathering of the Baldwin scientists and jokesters will be complete without your dear presence. Dana we-

_I know Cecil and I do too, for all of you. I have to go now. I'll try-_

Dana?

 

She's gone.

I'm so sorry listeners, I am so, so, sorry.

But

hang on,

it seems we are getting another call; maybe she managed to ring back,

 

HELLO?

#### Karkat!

YEAH. DAVE IS OUT. i wanted to call you privately, IS THAT OKAY?

Of course Karkat, you are always welcome to call. You are a member of this community now, and your business is their business!

OH, OKAY, I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, BUT I GUESS I'M FINE WITH IT. I KNOW I AM CONTRARY AND A BAS-dweeb..BUT I JUST REALLY WANTED TO APOLIGISE...you all have been so kind to me, it's overwhelming. I haven't...Been treated like this before. CECIL, I JUST ARRIVED AT YOUR HOUSE *WITH* DAVE; I DIDN'T ASK FOR PERMISSION; I DIDN'T HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO, AND BECAUSE I AM PLANET PUNY, HATEFUL WRENCH I DIDN'T REFUSE YOUR HOSPITALITY WHEN I SHOULD HAVE, i am a mutant cecil, somehow or other i am going to mess this up, i am going to get you all killed.

Karkat-

I AM SERIOUS. I AM A MUTANT AND I AM DANGEROUS-

Who isn't Karkat?

NO, I MEAN, I DEMANDED YOUR FOOD, HIVE, YOUR RESPECT, WITHOUT OFFERING ANY PAYMENT OR EXPLANATION - BECAUSE I DIDN'T HAVE ANY. when i can pay you and carlos back i will. i promise cecil.

ANYWAY, I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU, AND TELL YOU THAT I'M LEAVING.

Oh. Karkat-

I HAVEN'T TOLD DAVE YET, HE IS PRETTY WEAK AND EMOTIONAL, EVEN FOR A HUMAN, AND IT'S NOT LIKE I CARE ABOUT HURTING HIS FEELINGS - I TOTALLY DO NOT CARE, NOT ONE SMIDGEN. I COULD WALK FIVE THOUSAND MILES JUST TO END UP AT HIS DOOR AND YELL *I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOU AS IF MY HEART WERE A BURNING SUN TURNED BLACK HOLE SUPERNOVA; AS IF YOU WERE ALL THE SWEET HUMAN FOODS LIKE CHERRIES, ICE-CREAM AND CHOCOLATE SAUCE; AS IF I WANT TO GIVE YOU ALL CUDDLES, flushed or otherwise, forever and ever and ever* - BUT,

I WOULD RATHER HE HAD SUPPORT WHEN I DID LEAVE.

HE HAS BEEN THROUGH A LOT, WE BOTH HAVE.

Really, I think that-

I ALREADY TRIED TO SPEAK TO CARLOS. HE UNDERSTOOD MOST OF IT, BUT THEN HE TRIED TO TALK ABOUT LOVE-SHIT...UHUH I MEAN...'ISSUES.' HE SAID: 'It's okay to be confused Karkat, that's normal. Do you need me to explain to Dave that you need time, independence, your own space and a responsible guardian in order to work out these feelings?' AND THEN HE DIDN'T EVEN BELIEVE ME WHEN I TRIED TO SAY THAT I HATED DAVE IN A COMPLETELY PLATONIC WAY! HE JUST LOOKED AT ME LIKE HE WAS COMPLETELY IGNORANT OF THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF PITY/HATE, AND HOW *NOT* IN PITY OR HATE OR ANYTHING ELSE I AM WITH DAVE.

Okay Karkat, that is very enlightening. Is Carlos still there with you now? Do you want to put him on; I think we should sort out some things.

OH, NO, I...AH. I HAD TO LOCK HIM IN THE BACK ROOM.

WELL. I WAS LEAVING, AND HE SAID I SHOULD WAIT UNTIL DAVE CAME HOME, OR AT LEAST WRITE HIM A NOTE, OR AT LEAST HAVE SOMEWHERE SAFE AND WARM THAT I WAS GOING.

HE DIDN'T TRY TO STOP ME, OR ANYTHING.

HE JUST LOOKED AT ME, WITH THOSE BIG PERFECT, RESPONSIBLE EYES, AND I JUST WANTED TO SNUGGLE UP AND HAVE A COMPLETELY PLATONIC HUG PILE WITH HIM.

IT WAS DISGUSTING.

HUMANS ARE DECADENT.

I ONLY JUST MET HIM AND ALREADY HE IS LOOKING OUT FOR MY WELLBEING!

I HAD TO LOCK HIM UP FOR HIS OWN SAFETY.

HE IS LITERALLY SICK: SO KIND AND SWEET. HE IS A DANGER TO HIMSELF AND OTHERS.

HOW HE HAS SURVIVED THIS LONG? YOU MUST WORK SOME STRONG BLACK MAGIC CECIL.

Ah...Yes, yes I do. Anyway Karkat, humans _are_ confusing. They sure don't work the way you expect, even here in Night Vale. Even after all this time, 'I' wonder what makes their brains tick. Strange lovely beasts. But remember, even a human is still a Person, no matter how alien they may seem. Anyway, **You Have to Let Carlos Out of the backroom, Now.**

CECIL...

**Now, Karkat,** And You Wait There, I'll be home in a few minutes.

BUT HE'LL-

** Yes, he will be mad at you. This is non-negotiable. **

):B

Stop making that face; I'll be home soon. **Do Not Go Anywhere. ** We will sort out your living arrangements tonight. I just have to put on

<> <3

 

D:B .........

 

 

...<> <3

## The Weather

* * *

 

 

 **So.** _You met you a girl; you slapped her round._

 

You wanted to tell her, keep her here forever, in this 8ar8ed wire, desert,  _ play-ing ground.  _

 

**Well _guard_**

 

_ with the gun _

 

I'm gonna _take your scheming ass, to town ::::)_  


 

And when I'm done, they’ll have to, pick apart, your 8loody skin from desert sand-

DUUUDE,

IF IT'S UNCLEEAAR:

I'm 8aack,

_ D:::: I've 8een away for a whole three years. :::;) _

And I'm Ready. I'm Ready. And I'm Ready **And 8low** _**away,** your hands_, from my girl _, Terezi. Yes my girl, Terezi. _I've got your 8ack dear _, **Terezi.**_

 

####  Let's 8low this joint.

 

 

* * *

 

 _ **Well,**_ it has been a very busy afternoon Night Vale. But here with my son's chosen vessel of affections and a very disgruntled, but gorgeous, un-locked-up Carlos, I know the true meaning of life is family. Well, _by the word's very definition_ : a motley collection of conflicting souls.

We definitely have a lot to talk about and Dave isn't even home yet.

It seems _you too_ have been busy Night Vale.

Just between us friends, those unscheduled detours are causing some *strong feelings* for the watchful citizens and dubious agencies that dutifully protect and adore our sweet community.

Instead of a mad rush in fear, in the middle of the night; driving till the car runs out of gas; holding the children up; forcing them to walk for themselves as you ask them to leave you behind (the cultural legacy can survive if the youth are protected.) You could check your request through with some appropriate forms?

I know that bureaucracy can be a pain, _we have all been there_ , but there are people who can help.

Old Woman Josie is a swooning ballerina over political bureaucracy, non-violent protest and even self-actualization defence measures, if you are into that kind of thing. I'm going to talk to her about looking after Karkat, she is so motherly with her badass teaching abilities and legacy of political resistance. I think he's going to love it there!

Also, Tamika Flynn, who...I don't currently know the whereabouts of, and would never be able to remember, because what type of librarian fearing righteous citizen would learn something purely for it to be extracted under tor---pressure, hah...hah.

But if I did know where, or who, or what, she was, I would tell you to seek her out, quickly.

Not that I want to get into a discussion on the existence, or non-existence, of said not-person Tamika Flynn, or even suggest that such a topic would be appropriate at this type of radio station. Especially if a certain fierce duo were listening off in the distance, maybe needing some help sooner rather than later? Well remember the pink bunnies. That's all I can say pink, brown and metallic bunnies...Remember...Hah...Right, so stay tuned next for the sounds of your crackling bedroom static.

Goodnight dear Night Vale, _Ah_ , I mean Good Afternoon,

 

#### Good. After. Noon...

 

 

* * *

 

 **Welcome To Night Vale** is a sexmagic sacrifice produced with the intention of bringing all the good lovin’ and fame to its creators, as well as producing an environment conductive to peace and equality (i.e. reducing wealth disparity, improving living standards and increasing freedom from discrimination and violence.)

The current hijacker of the series, and its soul sister **Homestuck** , is a chronic love addict and escapism artist looking for best friends and people to exchange finger paintings with. If that sounds like you, leave a message in the comment section, or simply blow kisses to your window pane; we are always watching.

The voice of Night Vale is Cecil Baldwin. Characters included in this episode: Cecil Baldwin, Dana Cardinal, Carlos the Scientist, the beautiful Tamika Flynn and old woman Josie - bound to wrench the narrative and our hearts in some dramatic point, and some more motley children stolen from Andrew Hussies webcomic 'Homestuck.'

This episode's weather was called _**'Peace on Earth,'**_ by Vriska Serket, we know where she is: we don't want to.

Alternatively, Comments? Questions? Contact us here, or the original creators at [Welcome To Night Vale](mailto:nightvale@commonplacebooks.com) or that webcomic we would sell our souls and built a time machine for: [Homestuck](http://www.mspaintadventures.com)

Check out both for more information, as well as all sorts of cool stuff you can own, and while you’re there, consider clicking the donate link, that would be cool of you.

Ps. If you want to check my spelling and grammar in exchange for long winks across the internet and some bonus wiggle dances, please consider being my Beta; you are truly better, betterer and betterer than I. Yes, if this devolution in spelling disturbs you don’t worry: _it disturbs us all._ Hurry, before I can con the monkeys into writing this fic!

 

 **Today’s proverb:** Don't fall in love, just bite down hard.

When you taste the sadness of their blood and the look in their eyes, you'll know they weren't meant for you anyway.

Let them go.

_Someone else is out there. Someone is coming._

## You have to be ready.

 


	4. Love: is red, black and eats people.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Absolutely
> 
> We Could Certainty Come
> 
> To Some Arrangement What On Earth Or Otherwise Could You Possibly Offer Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ## Interlude, When Night I'm Yours: Rose Lalonde & Kanaya Maryam.
> 
> #### Recorded by Those Colourful Shapes Floating Past your Eyes.
> 
>  **Warning:** Contains dubious demon summoning and time shenanigans, a kid needs a best friend, all best friends are secretly people you want roll with in the flowers of your wedding cake and dreamland, and maybe some sex of the beautiful and lesbian/bisexual women variety. Kisses!

#### Rose Lalonde: Bring your mother back from the dead.

 

 **PS Warning:** Oh Wait. This part is hella serious. Your fluffyporn has been replaced. _Welp._ My bad.

 

**Rose: _The spell has failed._ Take toll from:**

 

**Dave Strider**

Thirteen year old Dave leaves his room in a daze and cracked glass.

He notices the blood, so _many_ agreements are signed in blood, but he doesn't register the pain. Just another alpha male, that's what he wanted to be right, until Carlos, until Cecil. He says goodbye in the way his heart skips a beat, like stuttering over a word, repeat: again - until it happens right and _nobody dies._ Now, when he thinks of his fathers' the yearning is strong, painful, embarrassing. He doesn't deal.

He's still a kid at thirteen, at sixteen, at twenty three, at one thousand...although it's been a while since anyone's believed his faux-innocence. (When he's ninety nine he'll be smoking robo fake cigarette lollies, and blowing kisses to _all_ the doctors and the cleaning staff who'll listen to made-up war stories. Because who wants to hear the real life that is his war stories, and the cigarettes are only fake while other people are watching.)

Funny, this is the first time he admits he loves them.

Right before he's about to leave for three fucking years.

Heh. _Poetic._ He almost knows it. He knows he's done something bad, _he's always doing something bad,_ he just doesn't know what it is yet.

At least for them the wait is only be hours. For him it's significantly longer, and he will come back changed.

(But all changes can't be bad. Can they?)

* * *

**Terezi Pyrope**

Terezi smells blood, but her head is clear. Everywhere smells of big ol' iron bars, even if only bar-like structures: bludgeoning barbed wire, prison architecture walls, long expanses of desert without water. To say the days have dragged would be a self-deluding euphemism for everything is only pain, humiliation and hunger. She dreams of dehydration, her thirst (she dreams of slopping nasty blood.)

 _Damn she wishes she had someone to hate._ Something solid and physical. Something that bled back when punched in the face. Not just this foreboding sense of authority and purpose; she gave no consent to be trapped here; she has no answers or forms to fill.

B1TCH Hate. Her body refuses the determination of her mind. _Now_ , when she gets really angry: she cries - _Daaamn,_ she hates it. (the general wet lather of tears, grubby against her cheeks; the way she wants to laugh to get it over and done with - to spite them; the flush of her damn blood; and every single person refusing to take her seriously.)

So, without something to hate she misses her brother (soft tears; screechy laugh; _refusal to shut the fuck up._ )

Guh. This was _the right thing._ She did _the right thing._ Righteousness, they can write it on her grave, maybe even with her blood, if she's lucky. Hah.The cost was always going to be astronomical. The cost was always going to be too high. She knows there is no getting out of this-

**OB-FUCK1NG-J3CT1ON!**

HAHHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA Hah Hah Hah HAH HAH HAH SHE BITES GUARRD BLOOD! It tastes like grit and hope and excellence. FUCK YES, THERE IS STILL HOPE! >:)

* * *

**Carlos the Scientist**

6 is his small hands. 2500 is fever dreams. 45 is when he lies. 294.7 is his fights with Cecil. 840 000 is that you won't be a good dad. 50 is the hole he'll leave when he's gone.

Object One: broken Window. Object Two: hostile, frightfully fierce child. Object Three: Hearts breaking apart. Likely Theory: a child has run, unhappy, scared.

When Carlos looks at Cecil, (whose heart and tentacles are in purple and red cascades falling into tears along with his face) he cannot think, because his heart has turned to ash and died.

He needs to look at the facts.

He needs to compartmentalise.

He needs to decide on an appropriate course of action.

_But he keeps looking at Cecil._

It took Carlos a long time to date Cecil, not because he didn't like him, (from the first minute: _his face_ was a completely new ecosystem! could Carlos photograph that tongue moving aggressively across his lips; _by Darwin_ , kissing had never been like this!) But Carlos knew, if he dated Cecil he'd have to fall in love with him and be together forever and ever (because how could you love Cecil, with only small bits.)

But Carlos was always guilty about using time: time wasn't really personal when it could be used for science and the world, cures and new descriptions of the sky.

But the way Cecil loved him, Cecil's own shuddering breathes took Carlos over the edge; Carlos fell

 

in love like the way you love the stars: expansive, indescribable, _terrible._

 

His heart was a Phoenix in a test tube, constantly burning back up. Tiny pieces of Cecil kept him glancing and making notes, wanting to document the entirety of his partners existence.

And then Dave.

Who knew that someone even had enough space to love, like he loved these two people.

With that thought _logic arrived._ The uncompromising search for truth and answers. He was a father, and He Loved Being A Father, _but that did not exclude him from his duties as a scientist._ Prior assumptions held; teeth and hair gritted back; he began to analyse the bedroom. He would find their son through determination, love and _air-tight evidence._

* * *

**Karkat Vantas**

It was not _love_ , the first time Karkat saw Dave. Love was a pathetic thing that makes no sense, a pale mockery of the depths and scale of true emotion. Maybe it was human weirdness, pheromones. But he did _feel_ a thing.

Because the best course of action is always attack, he said: I HATE YOU WITH A PASSION THAT COULD DRAW GODS TO THEIR KNEES.

Dave said: sounds kinda hot

Karkat, _boggling_ , couldn't shut his scrawny mouth fast enough. So they kind of stuck together.

It's not like there were many other places to _stay stuck_ for three goshdamn years.

And Dave does have a nice butt; smile; soft words and a way of drawing him up in his arms like their hug could go on forever.

And he has seen Karkat cry: beat his claws into walls and scream, thrusting his limbs into any breakable surface. Karkat can no longer fool himself, and say it's _only_ hate, he feels for him:

 

 _Dave,_ reclined and falling asleep on a deckchair with palms held tight.

 _Dave,_ across his knees watching movies and grinning through all the bad bits.

 _Dave,_ telling Karkat:  if you wanted if maybed if would you if you want if do you want if after we ever get home if you have nowhere else to go

do you want to come home with me

 

Hergh. Of COURSE Karkat had no where else to go, _that was not a reason._

But. Maybe someone loved him, (finally: wanted, loved. Oh.)

Maybe _Dave_ loved him...

* * *

**Dana Cardinal**

Dana's chest tightens. She is back in the desert. No, not _**that**_ desert. She is in a car. The woman next to her leans on her shoulder and sings in half sentences, laughs. The speed of the car correlates with the amount of sand flying up in the air and getting stuck in the wheels.

Dana remembers her because they fell in love; they were six years old; the car's velocity increases.

Dana thinks the woman is giggling, but that could just be hair getting caught in her face. The woman tries to meet Dana's eyes. Every morning Dana wakes up with same nightmares: she could have been better; she could have been perfect. The woman stops laughing and starts looking worried, like she knew just what Dana was thinking, like she could read minds, or smell it. She tries again to make eye contact.

Something about her body language is like asking for a hug without saying anything. When they finally do, it's a bit like falling apart.

When Dana was six she flipped off a neighbour in a grand and triumphant gesture by thrusting her hand at the unmanned fence and stealing brand new muffins.

But her mother caught her.

In great and vivid detail she explained a thousand ways the world would, or could, punish Dana, if she were just a little older.

Dana never stole since.

So, the woman's face is somewhat scared and breathless. She tries to shake Dana, wake her up. Dana wants to kiss her. She imagines what it would be like to kiss her. She is no longer in that desert.

Dana wakes up.

* * *

**Cecil Baldwin**

_Cecil is the voice of Night Vale:_

We must get our beautiful child back. We must do something to save him. Perfect Dave is young and vulnerable. Perfect Dave is barely even a wriggler to our community. Already his hair, innocence and scientific purity is growing like his Dad's: the perfect, lovely, unforgettable Carlos.

 _Cecil is the voice of Night Vale._ Cecil's voice is growing gravely and harsh:

 _What. Do I Have To Do_ Night Vale. What is it. What are you asking me to give?

But land can play tricks.

But land can be silent.

But land **can hold its breath in anticipation.**

* * *

**Rose Lalonde  
**

 

Your dress is stained and soaked with fluids; your arms, fingers, face, and the floor: scarred, red and sloppy.

When you look up - on sunken knees - you barely need eyes to tell you: the spell has not worked.

She is still dead, and now there is a bloody pile in her place on the wooden floorboards.

 

Someone swears downstairs.

 

Someone attempts to open the locked door.

 

You don't really care any more.

This was your last chance.

 

This was the last foster home; the last nightmare; the last sense of something so very wrong, lonely and immutable.

 

You are done.

 

_You give up._

 

There is no going back.

 

You have had enough of all of this.

 

 

**_Something moves._ **

 

 

Something sits up. _It is not your mother_.

But it is something you can use.

 

## Enter: Demon Kanaya Maryam.

* * *

Oh I See You Have Dragged Me Awake In Some Laborious Ploy Of Chance

And Generic Foolishness

After an Unsuccessful Attempt To Revive Your Yes _Dead_ Completely Isolated From The Living Mother Well

Guess What

_BitchKinks_ Human You Have Made An Error

I Am Going To Bite Your Lips And Suck Symmetrical Bruises Into Every Part Of Your Pale Flimsy Skin I Am Going To Kiss You Ragged And Gasping For An End Until You Are Keening And Want My Chainsaw Bulge Like A Hot Rod Through Your Soaking Panties

Darling I Am Going Make You Wet Like A Brand New Outfit HAH I Mean _Fuck You Up_ You Are Going To Love

It Oh My Sweety _bEATDOWN TreatPussy PartnerInDecadenc_ e My Bloody Saturated Lips I Am Going To Make You Ask For My Permission Beg My Sex Candy Baby wIPE iT oN yOUR dRESS aND sEND iT tO mE I Will Be Your Master Of Thighs And Fashion This Evening **Open These Damn Wards And**

** lET mE oUT **

 

Uhuh. No, I don't think I am going to do that under the circumstances, whatever your name is, 'Kanaya?'

 

Oh Luxurious Good Times Then _PrissyWetPanties_ Why Do You Not Believe Me When I Say I Am Only Here For The Goodness Of Your Multiple Orgasms

And Happy Smile

 

All that time locked in another plane of existence, and _you expected me a fool._

 

Will I Have To Convince You

 

Oh Kanaya, I must be misjudging your intelligence.

 

Are My Declarations of Sexual Climax And Erotic Intensity Really So Minor

 

Do you want me to send you back in time and you can meet my even younger self? Maybe you could try your charms on her?

 

Do Not Go Getting bLACK _BloodFlushedUp_ Now Precious

Like You Are Circling Gold And Want To Push A Fist And Kiss Me Right Inside I Am Going To Bite Down

We Can Kiss Through The Black Lipstick Later You _Succulent Sex_

 

maybe, no. I think that would be as successful as here, which is not successful, not at all.

 

Aren't You At Least A Little Bit Horny

 

Perhaps we could come to _some_ arrangement.

 

Oh Absolutely

We Could Certainty Come

To Some Arrangement What On Earth Or Otherwise Could You Possibly Offer Me

 

Well, I am sure I could think of a few things that would suit your particular interests and persuasion.

 

Keep Talking Dirty To Me _DollHuman_ I Am

Listening

 

About that, my name is Rose; how about we get more closely acquainted. I can start by establishing some inescapable laws and personal requests; then, I can bring you into a proper and physical existence. Does that sound suitable?

 

_DarlRose_ I Will Call You Any Number Of Impressive Names As Long As You Let Me Out Of This Cage I Just Wish You Could Taste The Way I Am Licking My Mouth In Anticipation

 

Well, perhaps one day I will.

 

And Perhaps One Day I Will Rip Through Whatever Bonds You Deem Sufficient And Drink Every Ounce Of Blood In Your Arrogant And Entirely Too Self Confident Neck.

 

Well, perhaps one day you will. Until such time, _my lady will you take my arm?_

 

Certainly I Could Not Imagine A Better First Date

Away My Love

Let Anything Come For Us In The Future If Only You Are By My Side

 

Indeed.

 

Indeed. <3< **  
**


	5. Welcome <3 my fabulous b*tches.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *TAEARS UP AND TAKES A SIP OF WIINETHINGS*
> 
> hahahaahahahah i men like THE HOLE BOTTLE.
> 
> *tears
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it ran; And it ran; And I ran, _till I had it in my sights,_ I cocked The Gun.  
>  It’s sinews, Legs and Fur! The way it caught my eye! **The explosion!**  
>  And the pieces floating if it died.  
>   
>  _but I,_  
>  did not kill the rabbit.  
>   
> Warning: Some use of _nasty words,_ and sly re-imaginings of certain characters, stories and their special quirks.

 

 

## Welcome.

So you were badass.

So you were empoweredly sexual and awesome and beloooved.

**WELCOME** my fabulous bitches.

I have waited a long time for this. _We have all_ been waiting a long time for this - _for you_ :]  <3 X x x x

As always, my name is Harley and you are HERE.

#### About to enter Night Vale. . .

 

* * *

 

**This Place** is magic. This Place we throw naked people at the moon, for frothy fertility giggles!!!! :D :] :] This Place. We all know magic cannot exist! This Place is some weird science, or political activism, or story turned upside down and inside out. This Place is called Night Vale, and the visitor is: YOU.

Moving on! This is my SOULLOVESSS Latula XXX But, sadly for you all, she has the *news...*

 

>8] Harley...you're not...lamenting the friendzone are you babe? Not gonna cry on the floor like a wriggler (mummmy cool..please date me! I did all the things! a _ll of the_ m!) Remember my friendshipzone is superpowered and precious, and no boychild manthing is gonna be my loverz, _if he doesn't get with my friendz._

 

**Heheheheh** , I'm guess we can still have the solidarity and the lollling over 'the man' tears Latula.

 

We can ALWAYZ have lolling over the man tears babe. Else who would I cackle about misandry with? >8] My heart would be broken! Besides, I have to tell the audience about The Man and My Man and That Man, who are all right at home right now. Tucked in close. So maybe if you see them on your travelz, maybe you could say hi? Check that shit out perhaps?

 

**We can give the audience more information** on the public radio later, my sweet :] thing :]… But I guess it is important to note that we are all still in some ol' massive political alliance, cause like shared and individual political struggles and ALL THAT.

 

Def. Respect and shared desire to achieve physical and legal alleviation of hardships! Cause It would be ridiculous to assume that material or physical changes in body or circumstance do not hold political or social weight, including oppression - because STATISTICS - but serrriouzly babe, I got to say things aren't so black/white any more. _Things are more fifty shades of grey._

 

_**For the love of Informed Consent!** badass happy BDSM and imaginative safe words..._ You Did Not Just Go There.

 

Oh babe, but I did go there, in tone: deadpan snark, if a bit enthusiastic and smug.

 

**Yeeahh...did go there**...Anyway, just for audience benefit: I'm taken(safe) and Latula and Roxy are taken(safe) Yup. Totally talking about relationships. All taken together!!! It's okay, I think if we hold hands realllllly tightly we can get through it.

 

AND THEN THEY KIZED AND MADE UP!

 

**Sweet, sweet, makeouts**. Just in time for the male gaze... lollllll. Il be you platonic romance partner forever-anytime my pale love x x

But right now we should probably get to starting up whatever this sweet radio show is even about!

I mean, wouldn't it be stupid if all this banter was actually a super badass misdirection ploy for all the SPIES and CREEPY STALKERS to completely discount all this as IDLE WOMEN SHIT and HYSTERIA. Sooo soo much hysteria: _all the emotions, all of them._

 

Yeah, that would be pretty stupid right. Especially if they were trying to get a message out to their sister, and others, in arms. Tell the current situation in short, piecey segments.

Like, coincidently, the **Economic News:**

_Several beloved long time business owners have been compromised. Remember: trust no one, get your money out alive._

* * *

And in **The Arts:**

_Don't act. Stay at home. The economic situation is making it a bad time for theatrics._

_The whole play was actually a play, within a play, within a Place._

_A **nd some of the cast are missing.**_

* * *

And **Environmental updates:**

_We are going down so fast that denial has reached God Tier level. Most of the population are still frightfully ignorant or geographically unreachable. Enemies approach from all sides. The ocean is heating, expanding and acidifying. The air is difficult to breathe and our available land space is decreasing._

_Oh, and did I mention, **lots of animals died: maybe all of them will.  
**_

* * *

 

**Wow,** listening to the news is always soo depressing! It's a good thing us girls have better things to do, right Latula? It would be safe to say that The Weather is getting pretty heated here in Night Vale: blistering, hostile, unpredictable.

_So,_ simultaneously requesting and offering help is _exactly_ what we are not doing. Remember: _exactly what we are not doing._

On a completely unrelated note, here's a cool fact! Did you know that during some high profile recent political and social uprisings activists and protest groups used dating sites and social media to communicate safe houses and the safety of the members themselves?

Isn't that neat! **  
**

 

I did not know that, my pale queen. 8> >8] <>

But...we can also look back and see examples of radio - as well as other news media including film, art and publication - _being used_ as a tool of propaganda, or to incite violence and genocide: citizen against _those designated other._

 

**May we never lose our way.**

No matter what they do to us.

All my friends times love and strength.

Our quest has the greatest ends, the most desperate result, but may we not become monsters to achieve it.

Nor let our enemies harm us, even through our own channels, or heads.

 

On that note, did you read Dayer’s new novel? I think it’s called ‘Checking PLUS Math,’ you know, the mystical European woman with all those weird new agey, kinda appropriative stuff…like that stuff is plain gross, but I think after the criticism she’s done some self-educating. You know the one, she wears a lot of fake beads and speaks in haikus but is actually really lovely, if…

 

**YEAH** with the enthusiastic tentacle sex! IT WAS GREAT, well the awesome sex part anyway. Hahah, I don’t know how well that description of our culture by an outsider is going to date in the future, but whatever, it was pretty fun and it wasn’t bad. She is certainly taking some stuff on board and her science is fabulous - real in depth stuff. Annnnd we all do lovvvve tentacle sex and respect for culture...

 

I know, I think it’s important for our communityz voices to be heard most of all; we are definitely doing a lot of work to make that happen! But it’s nice to be embracing all voices yadadda, if there is enough space without harming others or taking places needed for more marginalised voices.

 

**Ahhh.** All this feeling talk is making me want to get all deep into a solidarity jam with you sweetheart...come on kiss me with those protest stickers :]  <>

 

Heehehe…Okay... <> 8> >8]

 

**On that note** , and to give us a little time to sort the…next broadcast... lets head to national news: short, sharp, sweet and excellent.

Over to you my lovekin, **ROXY LALONDE:**

 

* * *

 

#### This week in News Shorts:

 

<3

**the fuckyehdana woman** and **my super swell sister:**

so rose got transported like some ambigious time ago - and heer sexmagic demon women is going fucking psycho, 'Oh Mi Kinky Knickers Ima So Missgn Mi Broad’ and dana is like there from whenever "Ima dana and Ima there and Im queeeer-' they all help each other out i guess - and don't die. that's goddamn awesome.

dana is bout 2 beattheshitdown like its the best sort of raap battle 'Yeeeh ima dana!' she says.

and all the caeges and prisns go WILLD

*cages *prisons *wild.

<3

**TEZ** and **some dice wielding supersayan:**

tez stil got face problems or like noface is moar accurate: 'Ima live inn your hosue without you knowin.'

but she like bite heer way out of their no truble.

but she still stuck. unfortun. butt mayeh that supergodtiergudbtch is like gona resuce herr or like kil her whoda the fcuk knows anyways thers been tons of singing.

 

<3

oH and **my lovecest bro** <3 kisses kisses:

woooh dirrk has been SHacked up. not like ima jealous of nuthin. but like he cud do so much better. Like seriosly.

their been tons of awmost

*ther *almost

macking and then stop. ugh. is painful to watch.

but HAILRIOUS,

he sad 'what the fuck Roxy, stay the hell out of my business you dick <3 xoox'

owahs. miss that sonofabithc.

 

<3

**some guyssss that i don't real no** slash **give a fcukc bout:**

theres ben tons of fam stuff happening and bonding and all that.

wish i could bond.

with a family *TAEARS UP AND TAKES A SIP OF WIINETHINGS*

hahahaahahahah i men like THE HOLE BOTTLE.

*tears

 

<3

**OLD WOMEN GODDDDD** she mi idol!!!:

shes been all there with her angles and shit. best fightin everr. or lol preparing i guess.

anyway she has karkles: 'GET THE SWEARWORDS ALL THEMs AWAYS FROMES.' who is looking prety adorbs. il admit.

*pretty *adorable

though he's totally like a self-obsessed asshole.s hahahhah.

nayway they gonna beat the shitt down too. But like

its allconfusing about when/whats actualy happening so we are all the prerparing for war path. super awesome times.

 

<3

**AND US!**

God gurl, il leave it too jadey to tell you bouts us, like you know how much I fckgin mis u an like

just come home real safe and quick yeh. <3 xooxoxoxo

I really just wanna lie my head on your knees and lok at the stars surrounded by flowers or some rommance shit

If this is the last time I talk to you girrl I just need u to no you have mi heart like an infinity code loop

Mi babe, my damn wanted error, please dn't crash the machine, I'm completely obsessed and it hurts. I luv you so much, please keep safe. Il protect jadey an the rest with all my fucking life.

 

<3 <3 <3

* * *

 

**Owah** thanks sweet...I will tell the anonymous listeners about us, like with all the vague symbolism and scary voices.

Just to second Rox’s shout out, I want to say if anyone has seen or heard from the criminal Temika Flynn they reeeealllly need to get in touch with the station now.

She..uh…owwwes me some money and I'm going to have to…hunt her down.

..and the kind of poetry that you could quote without ever looking at the page.

..and a cool artwork with a fish on it.

…and-

 

_ANYWAY_ Tems for the love of all the sweet babez missing you, not to mention my good ol' platonic self, get in touch, get in touch quick. We need to sort this all out now, supplies and resources are getting dire, not to mention company morale. Any longer and we are going to have to assume the wor-

 

**Girrll you do not leave us** for one fucking month, not to go on some secret-

 

_coolsweet hella wedding of Jeff's_. Right, that's where you have been all this time, right before you were going to hang yourself in to the authorities like a good girl, like we all are. Right Harley??? You remember helping Tem get all dressed up for the wedding-

 

**On what planet** is that an acceptable relationship! We have the plans, we have the ability to burn that place to the ground. We would have no reason to be scared out of our minds, except for the fact that you and the others _didn't show up when you said you would._ How are we supposed to act, or remain calm under siege when you could be hurt, locked up, or doing something completely stupid and reckless and brave! _We were supposed to do this together._ What the fuck Temika, are you some now some kind of one woman scientist freedom fighter extraordinary...Tem...the plan isn't working...where are you??? why weren't you at the meeting place??? what's gone wron-

 

_J4D3Y!!!_ TON3 DOWN THE PD4 4T ONC3! H4V3 YOU FORGOTT3N... that this is a public radio station, where we use appropriate language and all the-

 

_brrrrinnnnng brinnnnning brinnnnnng_

 

defence measures in the world aren't going to stop jack-shit if you spill every detail about your personal life alllll over the livewire. Why don't we take it to - Oh wait.

 

_brrrrinnnnng brinnnnning brinnnnnng **X X X**_

 

Looks like we are getting an outside line:

 

* * *

 

**X** You Have To Move Now

The Plans Have Changed Everything Has Gone Wrong Someone Is Dead

 

Fuck- give us your position Kanaya, where-

 

**X** I Know Where Tem Is I Don't Know If She Is Still

OhSAndSuckMyFuckingHeadIn We Cannot Do This Over Radio I Need You Here Now

 

kan, wee r on it. just chil. oka. where r u? jst gve us the code. pleese, honey, donn't gett all screwd nw.

 

**X** Oh Heavens There Is So Much Blood All Over My Face And Arms And Forehead And Dress i tHINK tHIS iS iT i aM sO dONE wITH tHIS wORLD

aND tHESE fEELINGS i wILL kILL aLL oF tHIS fUCKING dRAG mY cHAINSAW tHROUGH tHEIR WeakMeaslycORPSES oH gOSH oH sCREAMING dIETY wHY dOES tHIS hURT sO mUCH wHY aRE yOU hURTING mE sO mUCH i cANNOT tAKE iT pLEASE sOMEBODY cUT iT oUT pLEASE lET mE cUT iT oUT pLE-

 

We are cutting this the fuck off now -

Now- o- _JADEY_ \- I- **X**

**X**

 

**X**

**x.**

* * *

 

 

WELCOME TO THE PRE RECORDED

SESSION OF WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE, THE OPERA. STAY TUNED FOR A SELECTION OF WORKS THAT EXEMPLIFY THE EXQUISITE BEAUTY AND UNCHARTED WONDER OF OUR FAIR TOWN. PLEASE ENJOY, AND REMEMBER:

THIS RECORDING WILL RUN CONTINUOUSLY UNTIL A MANUEL OPERATOR CAN, _AND CHOOSES,_ TO SWITCH IT OFF.

BEST WISHES.

CRISIS MANAGEMENT.

 

* * *

 

 

## Welcome to Night Vale: The Opera

#### Part 0: Synopsis

_The libretto follows the story of Shakespeare's play._

 

**Act 1**

_Overture prologue:_

A short chorus sets the scene of the rival families in WHEREVER THE FuCK THIS IS. AND THEN THE BITCHES GOT SHOT. WHILE THEY WERE SHIMMYING AROuND ALL EMOTIONAL LIKE.

**AND WE NEVER HEARD FROM THEM AGAIN.**

The listener is plunged immediately into the action of the play. Represented by an imposing recitative of the brass. The disturbances subside, if only temporarily. As well as introducing the listener to the themes of conflict and eventual reconciliation which pervades the work.

 

_A masked ball in the Capulets’ palace_

THE TRuE HETERO talks to DIRK about DEAD BITCHES. who appears IN THEIR SNATCH GARMENTS AND TRY TO WOO HIM WITH FEMININE WITCH NASTIES. BUT HE SLAYS THEM AGAIN WITH MIGHTY SWORD JUST LIKE BITCHES DESERVE. THEN ALPHA MALE: THE STUPID ONE, ANOTHER MALE, ANOTHER MALE and their friends enter, disguised, and TRuE HETERO sings a ballad about BEING SO POWERFUL, after which DEAD BITCHES sings a joyful waltz song.

The first meeting between STuPID ALPHA MALE and SCREECHY DEAD BITCHES takes place, and they fall in love.

But DIRK re-appears and suspects that the hastily re-masked ALPHA MALE: THE STuPID ONE is his rival. While DIRK wants immediate revenge, ANOTHER STRONG MALE orders that the ball continue.

The distinctive themes of the musical symphony are set out, which combines instrumental and vocal movements; the orchestral introduction is followed by a recitative of the small chorus which outlines the main elements of the story and includes two vocal numbers, for contralto solo and for tenor and small chorus. The orchestral introduction also hints at the main thematic material of the work and the basic elements are contained in the opening theme of the violas.

 

**Act 2**

_The Capulets' garden_

After ALPHA MALE: THE STuPID ONE page ANOTHER MALE IN SOME SORT OF MANLEY BUT NOT TOO MANLEY BLUE SHEET has helped his master gain access, he reveals the two young lovers exchanging their vows of love.

**SO DIRK SLAYS THEM.**

Considered one of the finest pieces of the work, this movement covers a vast expressive range and deploys large instrumental forces in a most varied and imaginative way, from the rarefied and spare opening to the riot of colour and rhythm at the end.

 

**Act 3**

_Scene 1: Laurent's cell_

DEAD FORMER ALPHA MALE: THE STuPID ONE and DOuBLE DEAD BITCHES, accompanied by SOME GENDER NEuTRAL BITCH WITH TENTACLES, go to the cell, and the wedding takes place. BLuE SHEET EXCuSE FOR A MALE hopes that reconciliation between the houses of the THE SPIDER BITCH and the EYE-DuMB SEER may thus take place.

The movement is purely instrumental (in this version several characters vocal introductions and first meetings, sung by a chorus of SELF IMPORTANT HAGS, has necessarily been omitted, which thus deprives the instrumental section of its full context.)

 

_Scene 2: a street near Capulet's palace_

ANOTHER MALE sings to attract the occupants into the street. ANOTHER STuPID MALE and ANOTHER STuPID MALE skirmish as men from each family appear. The duel is first between DIRK and EVERYBODY ELSE, **who falls DEAD** , AND MORE GREEN AND PINK BITCHES WHO DO WHAT THEY ARE GOOD AT, BEING A MADE DEAD. and then between DEAD FORMER ALPHA MALE: THE STuPID ONE, determined to avenge his comrade.

DIRK is killed by A SHEER ACT OF STuPID FAN FICTION, who is banished by the TRuE HETERO.

THE TRuE HETERO REVIVES DIRK WITH THE KISS OF A THOuSAND BOOMING SuNGLASSES. AND THEN THE CHAINSAW BITCH COMES BACK A BLOODY BLOOD DRINKER.

****AND WE NEVER HEARD FROM HER AGAIN.****

The love duet and the duet of despair are entrusted to the orchestra, since duets of this kind have been treated countless times in vocal form by the greatest masters, it is wise as well as interesting to try another mode of expression. It is also because the very sublimity of this love made its depiction so dangerous for the composer that they needed to allow their imagination a freedom which the literal meaning of the words sung would have denied them. Hence the resort to instrumental language, a language which is richer, more varied, less finite, and through its very imprecision incomparably more powerful in such a situation. We believe this movement, rightly, to be one of the worlds greatest achievements and preferred it to all other compositions.

 

**Act 4**

_ALLDATEBITCHES room at dawn_

PATHETIC FORMER EXCuSE FOR AN ALPHA MALE and HIS SISTER BITCH are together and, after a long duet, PATHETIC MALE departs for exile. SISTER BITCH STRONG MALE AuTHORITY FIGURE comes to remind her of DIRK'S dying wish for SISTER BITCH to marry SPIDER BITCH BECAUSE ***THE HILARIOUS LOLS.***

ANOTHER STRONG MALE gives SISTER BITCH a draught which will cause her to sleep, so as to appear as if dead and, after being laid in the family tomb, it is planned that -WHO WRITES THIS SHIT- will awaken her and take her away.

[A ballet scene in the grand hall of the palace was inserted at this point.]

Both in symphonic and chamber music, this sequence went beyond anything that had been achieved before in its virtuosity and imaginative range of sounds.

 

**Act 5**

_ALLDATBITCHES tomb_

PATHETIC MALE AND ALL THE BITCHES. *NOT INCLuDING CHAINSAW BITCH BECAuSE SHE IS GONE FOREVER* AND THE WHINIEST OF SCREECHY MuTANT BLOOD BITCHES breaks into the tomb after having taken poison because he believes that SISTER BITCH is dead.

When she awakes from the STRONG MALES potion, the lovers' last duet is heard before the poison takes effect on EVERYONE EXCEPT DIRK.

As her bridegroom weakens **SISTER BITCH stabs herself** , ~~to be united with her lover in death.~~

The graphic vividness and intensity of the music, divided into sharply contrasted sections, makes the sequence of events easy to imagine. There is a final pathetic echo on the oboe of the chromatic phrase from the start of the 2nd movement:

***PATHETIC ALPHA MALE DIES ALONE.***

 

* * *

 

 

what the fuck is this.

 

DIRK! THIS IS **WELCOME TO HOMOSUCK.**

 


	6. Sugar sugar sugar sugar. Everyone is stupid and the worst.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know something is going to go wrong soon. Some debt still need to be paid.  
> I have suspicions, _but I cannot stop it._ If I just had just a little more...strength or time...but they are _so lonely._ They are all so lonely, tiny candles burning in such deep darkness. I see them all standing there, waiting: for home, for love. 
> 
> I hope you are safe, you waiting ones. I hope you can come soon. X x.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DIRK. LET'S TALK ABOUT SHIPPING.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> No.
> 
> SUDDENLY. AFTER YEARS LOCKED AWAY TOGETHER. I FEEL THE PASSION FOR HUMAN: LOVEFLITH.
> 
> Cal, I am sexual, sometimes I even feel happy, neither of those aspects will benefit from this conversation.
> 
> LET'S TALK ABOUT WHO IS BANGING THE MINCEMEAT.  
> LET'S JAM ABOUT A PALE SMUT PECKING PARADISE AND CHEESE FONDUE.  
> LET'S GET IT ON TO SOUNDS OF AWKWARD FIRST LOVE DECLARATIONS AND PASHING BEHIND THE PRISON FENCE.
> 
> Stop.
> 
> LET'S-
> 
> Okay fine, LET'S.  
> But I've written an AI for motivations, dreams and current context. I'm not letting you-
> 
> BUT I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE FUN DIRK. AND THE FLUFFPORN! I WANT FLUFFPORN! WHAT IS THIS??? SADSTUCK?!!!
> 
> Chill. Don't break the computer. I swear, _frick,_ Okay...next time you...shoosh Cal. Just shoosh. Remember, everything just got dramatic for those idiots we-
> 
> I DON'T-
> 
> Shoosh Cal, we 'like' or whatever. Unfortunately, we can't focus on the action right now, we have to focus on psychological states and idle chatter: because universe said so, and game mechanics. _I know:_ weird, gross, slightly incestuous(?) but this is Home _stuck,_ what did you think was going to happen? Don't worry, I'll draw you a picture with my mindcam while the AI types.
> 
> I AM GRIZZLING.
> 
>  _Fine,_ you can grizzle.
> 
> SULKING.
> 
> The picture will be pretty. They will be hand-holding. You could even hand-hold with me-
> 
> WHAT DIRK! WHAT! WHY WOULD I WANT TO DO THAT?
> 
> ....without further ado, here's your:

 

## Interlude, When Night I’m Yours: The Family that Loves You (|)

 

**Recorded in bits and pieces by The Sugary Sweetness that stays on your Tongue long after you have eaten.**

**Warning: This could have been**  fluffporn and dirty content, but instead you get SADNESS and the enduring power of the _heart;_ **think Captain Planet.** Hahahah, life is miserable and everyone is the worst; thus: be so wary; the archive warnings have left us behind; do not trust the future; do not trust the written word; do not even trust me.

Updates are random and sporadic. Time Jumps around. Expect a meteorite.

 

 

#### What Does Family Mean to You?

 

* * *

 **Cecil.** I have loved before, but I have never felt a family like this.

I come home drinking, in the middle of a broadcast. An intern drops me at the door; I go to places where it is dark, contained and filled with blankets. Before, it felt as if the world thrummed: hostile, brutal, grey. Now, I can barely breathe. I feel as if my hearts are skipping beats. I feel as if I could turn around and swallow someone, collapse, or burst into ragged tears and cry, ‘ _please help me_ ,’ till they shoosh me, please let them shoosh me. Opening the door is now terrifying; leaving the house is now terrifying; acknowledging a world outside this bed is now terrifying. Under official duress, I have requested a re-education briefing and some motivational literature. I have refused, flatly, to continue working under the circumstances. It will impact the Night Vale community but I am sick; this town is sick; my family is…

 

* * *

 **Karkat.** After I turned six,

I would wait by the gate outside my house and wish that my sister would come back. Hah, Idiot, Fool, WEAK. I, am the reason I can barely stand to get up in the morning, colossal fuck-up, wantabee, layaround, leech. The worst person in the universe is: KARKAT VANTAS. And he (it, I, me) is...depressed. Wow. I actually said it.

Wow. It feels so weird to actually come out and say that. My life problems are so tiny, my reason to survive so great (at least that's what I keep telling myself.) Everything is so different compared to how hard she had it, how hard so many other people still have it, _and I cannot help them_ , not while I keep making my own self so sick. I've got to be stronger. Sometimes, I'm only running on strong emotions! There is _something wrong with me_ : MUTANT...

Down to the gate I run, I'm six sweeps old, my claws against the rusty nails and chipped paint; I watch the cars stream past like a liquid blur; I dream of going missing, finding her, walking the whole way...

Family. What does it mean to be connected to _this_ family? What if lose them too?

 

* * *

 **Kanaya: Missing.** I loved their fingers clutching my fingers,

their bodies holding, (Hot Hot Hot Blush And Red And Entwined And Tight,) giggling throughout the night. I started having sex to feel people’s heartbeats, (I Can Hear You Close To Me. For This Second I Can Be Vulnerable.) to feel: close, connected, _safe,_ (What The Fuck Does It Mean To Feel Safe?) The heat; the dreams; the oblivion worked, but it doesn’t work now. When I tried to kiss someone I’d loved, (Fuck I Loved Her. I Loved Her. I Loved.)  _I love as a person_ , and they didn’t kiss me back, (They. Laughed.) I realised no one had loved me properly in a long time; I was losing the definition of how love, want, need, was supposed to work (Fuck, Just Kill Them All.) 

_I feel dead._

Family. Is there anyone out there for me?

 

* * *

 **Rose: Missing.** I knew my mother loved me because the bad things she did,

or thought she did, threw her into a depression as wild and painful as the snags of barbed wire catching your arm as you run through bush and trees. What people don’t often understand, is that self-destruction is an illness of circles: you hate yourself for hating yourself; you cut people away because you don’t want to hurt them.

Family.

 

What

am

I

looking

for?

 

* * *

 **Carlos.** I grew up in a house with yellow walls

and hand-me-down clothes that my Nana knitted out of scraps of old blankets and cardigans. Some days I looked like a sunflower, others a pirate, others a princess, and some days I scribbled in felt tip all across my face. I was happy, mostly, but so angry and confused. I had emotions and loves that I couldn’t vocalise and nobody seemed to properly comprehend – they said they did, if I told them – but I was always so quiet, or earnest, or passionate.

I was always making a fuss, asking _why_ , or criticising how things were done (and counting up to seven million four thousand and thirty one...)

I couldn’t understand the feelings and beliefs I found so natural, so engrained; my family thought it was important to tell me I was wrong - _and I was_ \- but not for the reasons that they thought.

Family. How can I treasure these beautiful creatures?

 

* * *

 **Tamika: Missing.** I wake up so dazed.

Family. How can I protect them?

 

* * *

 **Jade: Missing.** I'm trying to not to kill people.

I want to. I want to be safe. I want to know, in my heart, that I'm safe, that my friends are safe, that my girlfriends' are safe, that...but it's not working. I need these guns, all of these guns, all of the explosions, all of the ammo, all of the fricking political barbs...I need to make someone dead like it would bring everyone else back, back to life, back to me... FRICKINGFRACK. I would make mountains of blood shrines; I would give in offerings of my bloody beating heart; I would throw all the planets out of orbit, and around like tiny balls within my fingertips. Just. Let me bring them back, back, back...

Family. Where, when, how, why, who, how many, can I get there in time?

 

* * *

 **Terezi: Missing.** I wake up covered in blood.

Family. Where. Is. Everybody? Where am I?

 

* * *

 **Latula: Missing.** Everybody is stupid. Everybody is the worst.

Family. **_Can we get on with this already?_**

 

* * *

  **Roxy: Missing.** Mmhmhmh. So I have this _thing_ for my girl. Fucking yelp.

Like a _thing_ thing, for hair that doesn't look black but like flowers, coconut shampoo, tangled fingers, breathing hard against my neck, and the hot wet smell of kisses. And both me and my girl had a _thing_ for my other girl. Although that's okay; she's open minded; she's open minded; I'm greedy to slop into all their squishy human bits like a love cake.

And then me and my girl and my other girl have been having a lot of sloppy, sexy, brilliant, snuggly, draw-me-naked sessions. And _sexy_ sessions. And the birthplace of blending, where those two types of sessions melt into a mashup mixtape of naked bodies, paint, glitter, chalk and renaissance poses.

That, is still not a problem.

I am in utter solidarity with her _right_ and her _responsibility_ to drag me to the floor of my room with the raise of an eyebrow.

Or some staggeringly assertive political agency over her body: advertising her naked awesomeness through vid and instant pestering, forever-always.

I _fucking love_ to have sex with her. I can't keep my tongue off her.

I _love_ to just smell out every single step as she moves, graceful, elegant, _fucking badass._

I _love_ to scrawl my name across her body in fluorescents, or, as she's sucking my fingertips, or, as if my kisses were a novel enticing her into a map of my heart, or, when she's down on her knees working her way up my body, or, when she's smacking her face into mine in the middle of a dumb romcom-karkat-horror; I was trying to snog the popcorn, but I'll go with kissfucking my girls who taste like gun-toting power rangers any time, any day. It's like a mere inconvenience, not a problem.

Human relationships are different, forrr surrrre: they say they like this ONE thing; they go hard FLUSH for another thing; then they send me sexy webcomics and then drag me into bed anyway. Sex is so great, just totally righteous. So, all I need to do now right is figure out,

Family. How can I get my family **back?**

 

* * *

 **Josie.** I am too old for loving like this, I lie,

watching the sleeping boy in the spare room, with a sigh and a shake and a subtle shrug of my shoulder, as he continues to drool down onto my cardigan and the homemade quilt. Gently, I start to disentangle, holding up his head, careful of the tiny horns. The Erickas' laugh at me. I scowl, and then laugh and smile right back. It's been a long time since I've had children living in the house. A long time since I've had children as immature as this one. An Ericka rubs my shoulder and gestures me into a hug,

I don't complain, although I do complain rather frequently, everyone else says.

But if things aren't perfect: they can go wrong; you can lose someone. There is a bite in my heart then, but I ignore it. It's easy enough to, after twenty years.

Family. _This almost feels perfect._

 

* * *

 **Dana: Missing.** When I was young,

I used to prop up my pillows and watch large UFO balls of colour float between the corners of my bedroom.

They were a bit like an octopus dancing in slowmotion;

then, they were tiny planets;

then, they were space explorers;

then, my mother said she hated me a bit;

 

I

try

not

to

remember

that.

 

Sometimes I remember that.

 _I know,_ she didn't really mean it.

I used to see the world like Helen Frankenhalers paintings, the edges: floating spheres bleeding into browns and maroons. When I was young, I used to wake my mother up in waking-nightmares. Jane, my doctor, said it so kind and painful, when she said: my brain refused to stop.

It's good when your friends have people:

Cecil has Carlos, Cecil has Dave, but then Dave went missing and you were missing and everything since has gone strange, like the world collapsed. (You think you have a head injury...You talk about yourself in third person...You can't remember the last thing that happened.)

I’ve spent a lot of time telling people: I’m fine. I’m doing okay. I’m smiling, smiling, smiling, doing okay,

fine, not fine.

I feel

scared.

Overwhelmed.

Family. How can I help them

 **** _when I can't get out?_

 

* * *

 **Cecil.** I think of Dana.

We are close: friends since as long as she has lived in Night Vale. When I'm old, when I die, I hope she will take over my mantle, 'the true voice of Night Vale,' but perhaps she has even greater things in store. I know she's powerful. I know she can fix things, to make everything right. I know she can do it.

_I just miss her so much._

I think of little Rose, we haven’t met yet but I know her well, like all the eventual citizens of Night Vale, and perhaps more than that, like a daughter, or a friend.

I can't bring her back, nor Dana. It is just something I cannot do, no matter how much I may want it.

I know she's alive. That is all of it, almost all of it. Dana won't let us down. Dana won't let anyone down. I know something is going to go wrong soon. Some debt still needs to be paid. I have my suspicions but I cannot stop it from happening. If I just have a little more...time or strength...but they are all _so lonely._  They are all so lonely, tiny candles burning in such deep darkness.

I see them all standing there: waiting for home, for love, for a reason to get close and come into the light. 

I am here with my family. I hope you are safe, you waiting ones. I hope you can come home soon.

 

**X.**

* * *

 

 **Dave.** Family. What will I have to give up?

**X.**

 

* * *

 **Dave.** Then,  **Karkat is gone.**

 

**X**

X...

 

##  [Karkat: Dead. Dreambubbles of yesterday morning.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4125424)


End file.
